...so I'm going to tell you.
My favorite cake is cheesecake. Blueberry cheesecake.
And, it must be baked.
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Investigating "Incidents" in Iraq
Haditha:
(Bold emphasis is mine)
"The process by which all human beings in a region transmogrify into the hated and feared enemy works in reverse as well. As in the case of My Lai, the dead by some strange process can change back into aunts, grandfathers, children, babies. It can happen on the spot. As Ryan Briones, the first Marine from Kilo Company to speak out (though evidently not one of the killers), described the scene: "They ranged from little babies to adult males and females. I'll never be able to get that out of my head. I can still smell the blood. This left something in my head and heart."
The whole article is well worth reading. It reveals the similarity between indiscriminate use of airborne force and massacres on the ground:
(Bold emphasis is mine)
"On March 20th of that year, Secretary of Defense Rumsfeld chose to begin the invasion of Iraq with a "shock and awe" campaign of American missile and air wizardry over Baghdad. He meant to shock and awe a waiting world of potential enemies with the news that we were to be the dominatrix of all history. At the same time -- all things for all men -- in one fell swoop the U.S. would also "decapitate" Saddam's regime in downtown Baghdad (and elsewhere). The results: Of fifty "decapitation attacks," as the slaughter that passed for war began, not a single one killed an Iraqi leader of even the most minor sort, but scores of Baghdadi civilians died. In just four of these attacks that Human Rights Watch was able to investigate, 42 noncombatants were killed and many more wounded. One early missile attack was on "a civilian Baghdad restaurant where faulty U.S. intelligence suggested that Hussein might be having dinner," reports journalist Robert Parry. "As it turned out, Hussein was not there, but the attack killed 14 civilians, including seven children." Not quite Haditha numbers, but close enough; and this would set the tone in "accidental" death for the "liberation" of Iraq that was to follow. It simply never ended."
Bare witness. To do so over a long enough timeline will probably be enough to make me lop off an ear and wander away through the wilderness. But it feels like an obligation.
(Bold emphasis is mine)
"The process by which all human beings in a region transmogrify into the hated and feared enemy works in reverse as well. As in the case of My Lai, the dead by some strange process can change back into aunts, grandfathers, children, babies. It can happen on the spot. As Ryan Briones, the first Marine from Kilo Company to speak out (though evidently not one of the killers), described the scene: "They ranged from little babies to adult males and females. I'll never be able to get that out of my head. I can still smell the blood. This left something in my head and heart."
The whole article is well worth reading. It reveals the similarity between indiscriminate use of airborne force and massacres on the ground:
(Bold emphasis is mine)
"On March 20th of that year, Secretary of Defense Rumsfeld chose to begin the invasion of Iraq with a "shock and awe" campaign of American missile and air wizardry over Baghdad. He meant to shock and awe a waiting world of potential enemies with the news that we were to be the dominatrix of all history. At the same time -- all things for all men -- in one fell swoop the U.S. would also "decapitate" Saddam's regime in downtown Baghdad (and elsewhere). The results: Of fifty "decapitation attacks," as the slaughter that passed for war began, not a single one killed an Iraqi leader of even the most minor sort, but scores of Baghdadi civilians died. In just four of these attacks that Human Rights Watch was able to investigate, 42 noncombatants were killed and many more wounded. One early missile attack was on "a civilian Baghdad restaurant where faulty U.S. intelligence suggested that Hussein might be having dinner," reports journalist Robert Parry. "As it turned out, Hussein was not there, but the attack killed 14 civilians, including seven children." Not quite Haditha numbers, but close enough; and this would set the tone in "accidental" death for the "liberation" of Iraq that was to follow. It simply never ended."
Bare witness. To do so over a long enough timeline will probably be enough to make me lop off an ear and wander away through the wilderness. But it feels like an obligation.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
How your private actions impact Christians
Mr. Lefty draws forth the sword of reason and eviscerates the spurious arguments put forward by Australian fundamentalists who believe that gay marriage threatens the fabric of society:
"It is indeed an outrage. Every time a gay person gets married in Canada, it's an impost on Jim Wallace's marriage. Suddenly, he's not as special any more. Suddenly, he starts to look at other men on the street instead of his wife."
Seriously though, I find that the gibbering worship of Christians impacts upon my secular lifestyle. Think about it.
"It is indeed an outrage. Every time a gay person gets married in Canada, it's an impost on Jim Wallace's marriage. Suddenly, he's not as special any more. Suddenly, he starts to look at other men on the street instead of his wife."
Seriously though, I find that the gibbering worship of Christians impacts upon my secular lifestyle. Think about it.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
The perennial bad guy
And, speaking of Garry Oldman, I mentioned in the comment reply that I thought his best role was as Stansfield in The Professional. I also said that his maniacal, faux Jamaican character in True Romance was mesmerizing. It was, however, remiss of me not to make mention of the Big Bad, the One and Only - Dracula. Gary Oldman fucking made that movie; he held up Keanu Reeves' end the way Jim Carey held up Matthew Broderick's in The Cable Guy.
Anyway, a little Oldman to lighten up your day:
Mathilda: You killed my brother.
Stansfield: I'm sorry. And you want to join him?
Mathilda: No.
Stansfield: It's always the same thing. It's when you start to become really afraid of death that you learn to appreciate life. Do you like life, sweetheart?
Mathilda: Yes.
Stansfield: That's good, because I take no pleasure in taking life if it's from a person who doesn't care about it.
Anyway, a little Oldman to lighten up your day:
Mathilda: You killed my brother.
Stansfield: I'm sorry. And you want to join him?
Mathilda: No.
Stansfield: It's always the same thing. It's when you start to become really afraid of death that you learn to appreciate life. Do you like life, sweetheart?
Mathilda: Yes.
Stansfield: That's good, because I take no pleasure in taking life if it's from a person who doesn't care about it.
Friday, June 02, 2006
Rude Punditry
For those of you out there who often wish you knew a little bit more about politics, I'd recommend the Rude Pundit, whose most recent blog post started thusly:
"Whenever Michelle Malkin (who needs to be caged like a rabid shih-tzu) appears on Bill O'Reilly's Fox "News" show, it's a little like watching two hyenas rip into the corpse of a gazelle. They're in it together, their target can't fight back, and they're gonna rip that fucker to meaty shreds until they're good and done. So it was that on Tuesday, Malkin joined O'Reilly (who needs to be sodomized with a microphone) to "talk" about San Francisco's board of supervisors may vote to get rid of the Junior ROTC program in its high schools because of the "Don't ask, don't tell" policies towards gays."
The Rude Pundit makes politics fun and understandable, while at the same time he strikes straight at the beating heart of each issue. If you're thinking about getting in touch with your inner leftist you should check him out.
"Whenever Michelle Malkin (who needs to be caged like a rabid shih-tzu) appears on Bill O'Reilly's Fox "News" show, it's a little like watching two hyenas rip into the corpse of a gazelle. They're in it together, their target can't fight back, and they're gonna rip that fucker to meaty shreds until they're good and done. So it was that on Tuesday, Malkin joined O'Reilly (who needs to be sodomized with a microphone) to "talk" about San Francisco's board of supervisors may vote to get rid of the Junior ROTC program in its high schools because of the "Don't ask, don't tell" policies towards gays."
The Rude Pundit makes politics fun and understandable, while at the same time he strikes straight at the beating heart of each issue. If you're thinking about getting in touch with your inner leftist you should check him out.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
There is a club, everyone wants in - it's called club "ex"
I've been omitting mentioning something on this blog for the last, oh, six months or so. I guess I didn't mention it because I didn't want to put the kibosh on things. But certain recent events have occurred which now allow me to fill in the blanks. You see I've been (had been) seeing a girl over the last couple of months. She was an art history post-graduate student at a university in the city. There was a lot of things I liked about her - she loved movies, had a charming personality, was far smarter than me, and she could hold fantastic conversations. Unfortunately, over the weekend she decided to join an ever increasing list of girls that have preferred the status of 'ex' Quixotic lover. Yep, she kicked my ass to the curb midday talk show style.
Now when it's one or two girls you can kind of tell yourself that it was bad timing. You weren't suited, you know? It just wasn't meant to be. She didn't appreciate your unique virtues. All the shit that Dr. Phil would tell you to think (okay, that's the second day time television reference - I promise I don't watch any). But when you've built up a base of past girlfriends large enough to fill the southern stand of the MCG you've got to ask yourself some hard questions. Do you smell? Are you an arrogant prick? Do you make Andre the Giant look pretty? The problem is that I'm generally not too bad in a relationship - I don't have high expectations, I'm loyal, I'm not jealous, and I like to maintain a sense of individuality. I think I'm fairly entertaining to be around, and I can hold a decent conversation on most topics worth discussing. I can even bring on the funny. No really.
So what am I doing wrong? Am I too casual? Ugly? Smelly? I'm no Johnny Depp, but who is? And I figure that if John Howard can find a wife then I should be able to find a girl interested in hanging around past the two month mark. One night stands are fun, sure, and yet they get a little yawn-worthy after awhile. Oh well, the idea of spending my days reading good books, watching great movies and listening to my favorite tunes isn't completely unbearable.
Now when it's one or two girls you can kind of tell yourself that it was bad timing. You weren't suited, you know? It just wasn't meant to be. She didn't appreciate your unique virtues. All the shit that Dr. Phil would tell you to think (okay, that's the second day time television reference - I promise I don't watch any). But when you've built up a base of past girlfriends large enough to fill the southern stand of the MCG you've got to ask yourself some hard questions. Do you smell? Are you an arrogant prick? Do you make Andre the Giant look pretty? The problem is that I'm generally not too bad in a relationship - I don't have high expectations, I'm loyal, I'm not jealous, and I like to maintain a sense of individuality. I think I'm fairly entertaining to be around, and I can hold a decent conversation on most topics worth discussing. I can even bring on the funny. No really.
So what am I doing wrong? Am I too casual? Ugly? Smelly? I'm no Johnny Depp, but who is? And I figure that if John Howard can find a wife then I should be able to find a girl interested in hanging around past the two month mark. One night stands are fun, sure, and yet they get a little yawn-worthy after awhile. Oh well, the idea of spending my days reading good books, watching great movies and listening to my favorite tunes isn't completely unbearable.
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